


Waiting

by squarizona



Category: Generation Kill, Moonrise Kingdom
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-09-30
Updated: 2012-09-30
Packaged: 2017-11-15 09:31:53
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 641
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/525813
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/squarizona/pseuds/squarizona
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>They've got it figured out. The only rule is to go.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Waiting

**Author's Note:**

> I was asked to write this really short au based on a prompt that an anon sent me. I hope I did it justice.

It struck New Penzance like wildfires in the rainy season, something out of tempo that shook the sleepy boughs and the laziness of routine in the days towards the end of summer. Sam and Suzy had gone down in the annals of the island as lover’s lore, the tale of two kids just doing what they felt like they had to do to be together. A rash of copycat runaways followed, valiant khaki scouts and their Sunday school girls, leading security to tighten up around the edges; no one could pull it off like they had. None had the daring, the know-how, the dedication to get past their windowsills. But in the September of the following year, with the sky turning the pale beige of their khaki uniforms, a pair got pretty damn close.

Walt had steady hands and could draw a map, scrawling the times, dates, and locations in backwards cursive, left to right like da Vinci’s notebooks. Ray dug his ratty sneakers out of the bottom of his closet, folded under his uniform in the bottom drawer. In a shroud of low branches where they always met, one grabbed the other’s hand (it’s up for debate; they refuse to agree on it) and they decided in a silent pact to go. Over the next days, Walt’s steady hands scaled the walls of Ray’s house, having mastered the footwork, just for the chance to cram a carefully written note in the tiny gap under Ray’s window.

_“Brad—please feed my dog in the morning and night and throw a ball for him so he doesn’t get lonely. I’m sorry to ask you this, but there’s no one else I trust.”_

_“Nate—if anyone asks, we will be back when we feel like it. Thank you for the utility knife. I promise that will return it to you, even if it is years from now.”_

Other than that, they planned to leave without a trace.

In the low glow of his bedside lamp the night of their departure, Walt stuffed his Khaki Scout pack—canisters of waterproof matches, some jackets, extra socks, food in cans and bags. His father walked by the bedroom door in the hallway and paused. The reverberations, the absence of the heavy footfalls rang loud in Walt’s ears. Walt switched the lamp off and waited with bated breath for the footsteps to fade back to where they came from. In the darkness of his room on that night, Ray hid under his bed with a flashlight with his head propped up on his pack, reflecting Walt’s scribbles off a tiny mirror from his mother’s purse. He couldn’t sleep with his sneakers laced up tight. Not that he had counted on sleeping.

When the arms of his alarm clock crossed silently on the one, Ray propped open his window and lowered his pack to the soft ground about ten feet below. With careful footing, he maneuvered the edges and cracks of the side of his stonewalled house and gracefully landed, striking off north to the shroud under the cover of the night. The breeze heralded a chill, but Ray accepted it, in spite of the shiver.

Walt waited in the blackness of his room. The feet hadn’t moved for days, it felt like—hours, at the very least. Slowly, so as not to make a breath of sound, he glanced to the window. Slightly ajar to let in the crisp whispers of the fresh fall. He could make it, he thought. He could take the few steps, hoist his pack out and pray everything stayed in tact on the journey to the ground, and slip out with minimal sound. But for safety’s sake, he waited. Ray waited in the shroud until the early morning light pinked the sky. They both waited for the other, or for a signal.


End file.
